


Sparks Like These Don't Turn to Embers

by InfaWrit10



Series: Sockathan Week (Week 4 Prompts) [1]
Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sockathan Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:30:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfaWrit10/pseuds/InfaWrit10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan has a tradition for the Fourth of July that he shares with Sock.  It isn't just the sparks from the fireworks that start to fly...</p><p>First prompt- Fireworks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparks Like These Don't Turn to Embers

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Sockathan Week and late Fourth of July everybody! I actually came up with this idea for the Fourth of July butI decided against writing it. Funny, huh?

Jonathan surveyed the lot. People wandered around his backyard aimlessly, some of them drunk, no doubt. They were mostly his mother’s friends or family. The ones maintaining some form of sobriety chatted amongst themselves, some with plates of food, others without.

July fourth was one of the most obnoxious holidays to Jonathan. Sure, it was America’s independence day, and the story behind the day itself was wonderful, but most people just used it as an excuse to be insanely drunk, loud, immature, or all of the above, and Jonathan could not stand when people acted like idiots just for their own selfish reasons.

“Whatcha doin’?” Okay, maybe he could stand it some of the time. Sock was definitely an exception, especially today. Surprisingly enough, Sock was low on the list of things that annoyed him today. He had been for awhile now, if he was honest. He was loud, but that was only to be heard over the loudness of the party next door at his neighbor’s house. If that wasn't going on, maybe Jonathan would be less pissed off at the holiday this year. It was calm in his backyard after all, if you don't count the drunken ramblings of his cousin Troy that sounded from the right every now and then.

Jonathan glanced to the demon beside him, knowing that he was emotionlessly looking off to his left in everyone else’s eyes. Nothing… he thought. He sighed, getting up from his perch on the narrow cobblestones that lined the walkway.

Sock trailed behind him as he headed for the fence gate, floating towards him at a safe pace.

“Hey Jonny!” His cousin Troy trapped him under an arm around his shoulders. It was very wet at the forearm and hand, getting less so towards the bicep. No doubt it was the remnants of ice water in the cooler containing the beer. He felt the wetness begin to soak into his hoodie, shivering at how unpleasant it felt on his neck.

“Hey Troy,” Jonathan breathed, stopping reluctantly. He didn't want Troy to get a neck injury or something because he decided that it was safe to walk with a drunk person on him.

“How’s the girlfriend?” Troy whispered, as if it were a secret just between the two of them.

Girlfriend…? Sock wondered, he hadn't seen anything about a possible girlfriend, and he’d been haunting Jonathan for many months now. Crushes maybe, and girls that he probably thought about having flings with (even though he never would… Or at least, Sock hoped he never would), but never a legitimate girlfriend. “Girlfriend, huh Jonny?” Sock teased.

“I don't have one,” Jonathan tried to take Troy’s hand to throw the appendage back to his cousin’s side, failing when Troy grabbed his shoulder firmly.

“Too bad. That girl next to you’s kinda cute,” Troy gestured to his left. Jonathan took a look around his shoulder. Sock was the only person behind him. Jonathan’s eyes widened at Sock, who was slightly red in the face at the compliment, even if his gender had been mistaken.

A song Jonathan couldn't stand came on in his neighbor’s yard. Troy’s face contorted in recognition, “This song’s awesome. Maybe I’ll ask that beauty over there to dance with me. Later Jonny!” Troy released him from the vice grip with a wave, sauntering over to a young lady Jonathan didn't know. Probably a kid of my mom’s friend or something.

“Later,” Jonathan said absently. He shook his head turning back to Sock for an explanation as to why Troy could see him.

“It wouldn't surprise me if somebody who was ridiculously drunk could see me…” Sock shrugged, “I mean, you're delirious enough in that state to see anything really, or so I hear.”

Jonathan shrugged. Makes sense, I guess.

Before anyone else could disturb him, Jonathan hightailed it to the fence. He wound up safely on the other side in his driveway moments later. He breathed a sigh of relief against the conjoined plastic before heading to his truck.

It was a beat up thing, the metal beat to high hell and the paint worn away in multiple places. He was planning to fix it up this summer, but he was still enjoying the peace he found in just laying on his bed in the air conditioning with his headphones snugly around his ears to really… well, get up.

He curled his fingers up around the handle in the back and pulled it down. He hoisted himself onto the truck, his legs dangling just above the pavement of his driveway. His fingers curled around the end of the bed. This was tradition. He remembered his older cousin Larson picking him up when he was around six to watch the fireworks display in the truck bed. Ever since then, he had done the same thing. Even when Larson had seemingly forgotten about him, first heading off to college, then to their own home with their husband. Even when he hated the holiday now, hated people, he still sat in the truck bed to watch the fireworks. He had only broken this tradition once, last year, when he hadn't had a truck at his disposal. It made him happy knowing that he’d at least have this in the midst of wacky hauntings and horrific teenage-dom.

Sock peered around the side of the bed to Jonathan, studying the reminiscence in his expression. He suddenly turned, “Well?”

“Well what?” Sock asked.

“Are you gonna sit down, or are you just gonna stare at me? It’s kinda weird for you to just stand—er, float there, yeah?”

Sock floated up and warily dropped down to sit on the bed, maintaining eye contact with his counterpart as he searched for any sign that this was unwelcome. The expression Jonathan wore earlier kind of made Sock feel as if the truck bed was sacred, he didn't want to trespass.

Once Sock had settled, Jonathan looked out to the world around him.

Like with most things lately, Sock felt conflicted. On the one hand, he kind of wanted to leave Jonathan alone to give them both a break of the other’s presence, and to shake the thought that he was trespassing from his head. On the other hand, Sock wanted to speak up. Sock and silence weren't friends; he always rambled to fill gaps in speech, making things awkward most of the time. He then remembered the music coming from the yard next door. It was quieter than before, but he focused on it so as to not lose his mind.

And then, Wait. Jonathan had asked him to sit with him. But… That wasn't pity, was it? Jonathan didn't seem like the pitying type, so he assumed not. That meant that he genuinely wanted Sock to sit with him. Despite all his annoyances, despite all of his suicidal suggestions, Jonathan Combs still asked him to sit with him. Sock tried to stop the grin. He bit his lip, but he still felt the corners of his mouth start poking his cheeks as he stared at the pavement to the right. He sighed quietly, releasing some of the happiness in his grin as if it were air in a balloon.

His calm smile was wider than Jonathan’s, who’s smile you could still see it… kinda.

They sat with only the music playing in the background. Jonathan must be in heaven. Sock thought, peeking at him.

After some time past, he turned his face forward. “What are we looking at?”

“The sky. The fireworks should be starting soon.”

“Where would they come from?” Sock asked, remembering that his local beach had done a fireworks display every year when he was alive. There weren't any beaches around. Unless—

“The neighbor’s shoot some off at ten every year.” There was no one around in the street, and Jonathan was sure that nobody at either party heard or cared about him talking to “himself”.

“Figured,” Sock replied, gazing up into the orange and slightly pink hombre mixture that was the sky. “So… Is this your thing?”

“My thing?” Jonathan turned to Sock, unsure of what he meant.

“Yeah, your thing. You take a pretty young thing out on your truck to watch the sunset and the fireworks and hope that your Combs charm will get you somewhere. Am I close?” Sock raised an eyebrow and a smirk.

“Not even,” Jonathan deadpanned. Sock gazed at him as Jonathan’s tiny smile turned back up and he turned his head back to the horizon.

Sock’s heart banged against the wall of his chest. He doesn't have to hope it gets him anywhere it all. It already does… He screwed his eyes shut, scolding himself without words, as he too turned back to the sky.

It truly was beautiful. The atmosphere, the light breeze that swung by every now and again, the colors, Jonathan’s smile.

Jonathan abruptly scrunched up his face, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Listening to music that’s actually good. This music has been crap all night.” He scrolled through his music library, finding a song quickly.

It was the first time Sock had ever seen Jonathan listen to music without his headphones. The phone laid full volume between them on the spiking waves in the bed. Being included for once in this regard kind of felt… intimate. The fact that Jonathan’s headphones were his staple, and that he wasn't wearing them right now so Sock could be included definitely meant something, right? 

They listened to, agreeably better, music until dusk, which was just as beautiful as the sunset that preceded it. The stars stood out—what little there was of them out here—in front of a navy sky. The navy stood tinted behind a reddish veil, creating a sort of indigo-purple-y hue.

It was then that it came on. Jonathan’s phone blasted a few notes strung so seamlessly, yet stunningly together. This gave way to what Sock could only describe as the song of angels. Struck instantly by this lovely melody, Sock’s eyes widened. “What song is this?” he questioned, awestruck.

“Fourth of July, Fall Out Boy.” Seeing Sock’s face was a joy. Judging from his expression of wide eyes and a hung jaw, he liked it. Knowing that Sock liked a FOB song that he introduced him to held a surprising amount of weight to Jonathan, an amount of pride in himself he hadn't had two minutes ago.

Ironic title… Sock thought before his attention was pulled to the sounds of cheers next door. The first firework shot off, then the next few. They left the telltale scent of smoke in the air, and colors behind that lived a short life before the dusk snuffed them out.

As it went on, the fireworks got grander and the song still left craters in him with every lyric. With these spectacular things going on at once, Sock remembered that there was another spectacular thing. He was sitting right beside him. Maybe it was the constant captivating harmonics of the song blaring in his ears, maybe it was the fumes from the fireworks, maybe it was the happiness it brought him to see Jonathan smile for once, or all three, but an intensity was reached within Sock that he hadn't ever felt before, a boldness that pounded within him like a drum. The drum thudded against his every pore, wanting to come out, be used, become an intention to become an action to become something to evoke emotion.

Sock took in a breath, bit his lip, briefly had doubts, but when his lips met Jonathan’s cheek, he knew that it happened and there was no taking it back. However, he had to take himself back at some point. He didn't immediately. The bravery fell from him fast now that the deed was done. He wanted to reel back, fly away from everything: his job, Jonathan, even his own soul bound to anything and everything he knew. He resisted, and did the thing he wanted to more. He pulled back to roughly a centimeter from Jonathan’s cheek, and whispered, “Happy fourth, Jonathan.”

Jonathan moved in and out of colored illumination from above. His gaze held nothing if not a little shock. Just as he was about to face Sock, he felt a weight on his shoulder.

He knew exactly what it was. He wrapped an arm around Sock’s waist, feeling Sock snuggle further into his shoulder before a high-pitched ringing filled the neighborhood and probably far beyond. A burst of color exploded before them as the grand finale.

“You know… You’re kind of like a firework… Colorful… Always exploding with energy…?” Jonathan had no idea how that would sound, suddenly doubtful that talking at all was a good idea.

Sock chuckled, knowing from his companion’s tone that he had no idea how it would sound. “Is that a compliment?”

“I think so…?”

Sock chuckled again, planting another innocent kiss to Jonathan’s jawline, “Thank you.”

The smoke began to slowly fade into the atmosphere, as well as the cheers from the next door neighbors and their guests. As he waved to all his guests on the way out, he caught a glimpse of Sock resting peacefully on his shoulder.

He smiled.

“Happy fourth, Sock.”


End file.
